


be my unholy

by orphan_account



Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: Begging, Butt Plugs, Consensual Non-Consent, Edging, Exhibitionism, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, caught masturbating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 05:39:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4423481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Dishonored kinkmeme. Prompt: "After an encounter with the Outsider, Corvo gets himself off. First the Outsider watches, then he joins Corvo."</p><p>~</p><p>His face burns; his breath comes short. It’s fucked up that just listening to the Outsider speak does this to him, but he’s given up on denying it. These days, it’s simpler to just deal with it, which is why he's taken to carrying around sex toys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	be my unholy

**Author's Note:**

> The consensual nonconsent element of this fic is quite brief and obviously consensual, duh, but it's not negotiated whatsoever, because danger-fucking idiot/mindreading deity. Read with caution, and do NOT attempt anything like that IRL without careful, thorough communication and negotiation. 
> 
> Also, I do not recommend improvised sex toys--do not make your own buttplug unless you actually know what you're doing. (Metal sex toys are totally a thing, however.)

These meetings at shrines _do things_ to Corvo.

As soon as he’s safely around the corner and away from the shrine, he picks the first reasonably cozy spot—an old mattress tucked behind a table, out of sight from the window—and sits down.

His face burns; his breath comes short. It’s fucked up that just listening to the Outsider speak does this to him, but… He’s given up on denying it. These days, it’s simpler to just deal with it.

His cock has already started to fatten up from anticipation and the silky, smug cadence of the Outsider’s voice. He drags his palm over it, shivers at the dull friction, and then digs through his coat pockets.

The little vial of lubricant—a creation of Piero’s that Corvo swiped from the Golden Cat—is easy to find. The other object has escaped into the lining of his battered old coat, and it takes him a few minutes to wrestle it out. His hands shake.

Piero would happily make him any number of sex toys, but Corvo could never, ever ask him for one. He makes do with a plug improvised from the snapped-off hilt of an old dagger, cleaned thoroughly and burnished smooth and safe.

Corvo drizzles the mysterious Piero lube onto the blunt end of the plug—probably not enough, but he doesn’t need “enough,” never has—and yanks his pants down to his knees. 

He kneels up, reaches behind himself, and starts to press the toy in. It slips around, cool and teasing, between his cheeks.

Once he gets the head of it seated, it doesn’t hurt at all. He’s given himself enough practice, Void knows. But there’s still the momentary discomfort and bodily confusion as his ass adjusts. Corvo breathes out through it, gingerly forcing his body to relax. He eases the toy in with a smooth push, buries it to the crossguard in his hole.

He makes a faint noise, little more than a sigh, and settles back. The pressure inside his body is subtle, maddening. 

Corvo turns his attention to his dick. He licks his palm and curls it around himself, strokes up his painfully swollen length and hears himself sigh. “Oh…”

He goes light and slow, avoiding the rough harsh pulls that he knows he needs. His legs tighten; his hips twitch, jostling the plug, and he grunts softly.

The Outsider hovers in his mind’s eye. Corvo pictures his mouth curving in a cruel, fascinated half-smile. It makes him squirm.

Perhaps the Outsider would sneer at his base, human activities. Perhaps he would be intrigued. That’s all too easy to imagine, and that possibility makes Corvo want to moan. His throat aches with the unvoiced sound.

 _Look at you, tormenting yourself,_ the Outsider might say. Corvo’s thumb slicks over the head of his cock, and he shudders. _Dear Corvo._

He clenches up around his plug, grateful for the thickness and the slight, sweet burn. Shivering, he works himself faster, visualizing the Outsider’s enigmatic expression. If Corvo were to do this in front of him—

He might get to the edge of orgasm waiting for the Outsider to say something. He might spill hot and shamefaced over his own hand as the Outsider opened his mouth to praise or judge, or simply to ask what he was doing—

Now he aches, balls drawing tight, limbs shaking. His hand slips in the precome wetting his cock, warning him. Corvo grabs the base of his cock tightly and curls up. He whimpers, riding out the pulses in his body, narcotic-sweet, that threaten orgasm.

Once they’re safely past, he rolls his his hips just to feel the edge of friction against his hole again, and carefully lets go of his dick. He’s so hard, flushed so dark. Each movement of the plug inside him pushes a fresh drip of precome out of him, and he can’t help but wonder what the Outsider would make of it.

Corvo presses his fingertip into the slit of his cock, stifles a whimper, and pulls his hand away. He can’t stop fucking himself on the plug; if it moved more inside him, he’s sure he could bring himself off with that alone. 

Unbidden, he thinks of a favorite, well-worn fantasy: his wet cock reminds him of other kinds of wetness.

If he had—if he had a cunt, someone _(the Outsider)_ could force his cock into him there too, fill him up in both holes, make him twice as helpless and senseless and greedy—

This time, he can’t or doesn’t want to silence his moan. The sound of his own voice, raw and high and filthy, just makes him louder. He wraps his hand around himself again and risks a tight grip.

Quick, quick strokes, slick and sloppy with his own wetness—the Outsider’s strong pale fingers curling up into the swollen, open, _aching_ hole he doesn’t have, stretching him. Fingers in his ass, too, and the toy inside him makes it too real and urgent—

Corvo lets go of his dick, shuddering. He doesn’t dare touch himself to restrain his orgasm this time. He’s so close his teeth hurt. He twitches, eyes glazed over, until the almost-almost- _almost_ burning in him recedes. 

He wails quietly as his vision clears _(you whore, you sound like a cat in heat,_ his mind supplies) and rolls his hips again.

His hand is about an inch from his cock when the room starts to go dark and swirling. 

“Fuck,” Corvo says, confused for a moment, and then a familiar, bone-hard, elegant face swims into view. His heart sinks into his boots.

“My dear Corvo,” the Outsider says, and Corvo’s guts flip, “whatever are you doing?”

His cock jerks; he flushes all over. He opens his mouth, then pauses—what is he supposed to say? Surely not _jerking off to you._

Corvo settles on, “Go away.” He sounds ragged and fucked-out, which is humiliating and so good it makes his toes curl.

“But you were thinking of me so intensely,” the Outsider says, brows arching.

“You—you _knew?”_

“You were close enough to overhear, my dear,” the Outsider says, and Corvo realizes, horrified, that he usually does get farther away before getting himself off. “You were focused so intensely on pleasure, too. Unusual. You are not typically such a hedonist, Corvo.”

“Nng.” Corvo doesn’t dare speak, or even move. The Outsider cocks his head and _waits_.

A long moment passes, marked by the blood beating in Corvo’s face and the way his body throbs.

“Well? No need to stop on my account.”

“By the Void,” Corvo gasps. He’s either going to pass out from embarrassment or die. His dick twitches.

“I’m quite serious, my dear. Keep making those entertaining noises while you think of me,” the Outsider murmurs. Unmistakable hunger suffuses his handsome, too-young face.

Corvo squirms, and the plug’s drag on his hole makes him _mewl_. He sounds—

“Nnngh.” He rolls his hips again, and the Outsider’s gaze is like a touch. “Oh, oh—” He can’t shut up anymore.

“You’re humiliated,” the Outsider says thoughtfully, and Corvo thinks his eyes might roll back. “But that suits you, doesn’t it?”

He nods. The second he touches his cock, he’ll come, so he grabs at the bare mattress instead; he wants to float in this mindless, frantic place as long as he can.

“I said,” the Outsider repeats, beautiful voice turning sharp as a blade, “that suits you. Doesn’t it, Corvo?”

 _Oh,_ Corvo thinks, dizzy. “Yes,” he rasps.

“Of course it does,” the Outsider purrs, leaning down toward him. “You’re truly remarkable like this, my dear. I know you wanted me to witness you in this state—”

Words fail him. He whimpers, manages a whiny, pathetic, “Yes, _yes,”_ and the Outsider smiles.

“Oh,” he adds, serene as can be, “and you want me to fuck you.”

Corvo’s hips snap all on their own. “Please,” he chokes, and the sound of his voice drags him deeper. “Please, I want you—” He’s so agonizingly close, so _empty_ even with the plug.

“Tell me,” the Outsider commands.

The flush of need that hits him is more or less indistinguishable from pain in its intensity; Corvo’s eyes water. “Fuck me with your fingers,” he manages, “your cock, anything.” Outsider’s eyes, he sounds disgustingly desperate, and he babbles, “Please, fuck me, I need it.”

“Like that,” the Outsider murmurs.

Corvo tenses his thighs and writhes, trying to get more from the toy inside him. “Outsider, please,” he whimpers, unable to keep his eyes open, and at this rate he’ll fucking _talk_ himself over the edge before he’s touched. “Oh, please. Wish I could be wet for you, just force your way into me, I can take it, need it—” His muscles twang with tension.

Close by, the Outsider says, “Perhaps after this, you will return the favor.”

Corvo wonders what he means, and then his plug shifts and draws out. He nearly shrieks, biting into his own arm as the Outsider replaces the plug with his own fingers.

It’s too dry, harsh and too much, so much bigger than the toy, and it’s perfect. Corvo sobs for it, spreading his legs and letting the Outsider finger him hard enough to shake his entire body.

A hand grasps his jaw. “Look at me,” the Outsider says, and Corvo does. He’s winding up tight, tremblingly close, and the Outsider’s thrusts rock him, punching in deep.

He stares up into the Outsider’s intense face, keens on every breath. “Close,” he gasps. “Please—”

The Outsider makes a fist; light flares around Corvo’s cock, and his impending orgasm _vanishes._ Tears spring to Corvo’s eyes. “Let me come,” he says wretchedly, gratefully.

“No,” the Outsider murmurs, and he presses Corvo down onto his back. His pants go—somewhere, he doesn’t care where, and Corvo struggles just to feel the Outsider hold him down. 

“This is how you want it?” the Outsider says, and his hands tighten, his smile hooks.

Corvo flashes hot from head to foot and _gambles._ “No, please don’t, please—”

The Outsider shoves a fourth finger into him, black, black eyes glittering with cruelty and joy. Corvo cries out, hips twitching onto it.

“No, I said no…”

“You wanted it,” the Outsider says, delighted. “Don’t lie to me, my dear Corvo.”

“Stop it,” Corvo breathes, faint with pleasure. He’s close again, and he’s not sure if even magic can stop him this time. “Please stop.”

The Outsider curls down over him, says, “No, my dear,” and keeps going.

He doesn’t touch Corvo’s cock; he doesn’t need to. He simply fucks Corvo with his fingers and topples him into the kind of orgasm that makes him thrash and growl and come _everywhere_.

Eventually, he catches his breath and stares up into the Outsider’s face. The Outsider is licking his fingers clean, expression thoughtful and pleased.

“Thank you,” Corvo rasps.

The Outsider crouches, leans close, and presses his mouth to Corvo’s. His skin is cool and soft. Over his own sweat and come, Corvo can smell seawater on him.

“Can I—?” He reaches a shaky hand toward the Outsider’s belt, but the Outsider draws back. Touches his hand lightly.

“My dear, I appreciate your willingness, but I will be taking my pleasure from you in a different way. Later.”

“Oh.” Corvo considers this. “What do you mean?”

The Outsider puts one arm around his shoulder, and clinically, carefully rearranges Corvo’s sweaty hair. “You’ll see. It will seem strange to you at first, but I believe you will enjoy it.”

“If this was anything to go by, _yes,”_ Corvo mumbles. He leans into the Outsider’s shoulder. He’s more solid than he would have expected. His eyelids slip shut.

He senses, rather than sees, the Outsider’s smirk. The Outsider lowers him onto the mattress, and Corvo slips easily into dreams filled with the calm blue light of the Void.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "One and Only" by Timbaland, feat. Fall Out Boy.


End file.
